Sunday, July 24, 2011

It's true. After 15+ years of avoiding new horror releases because they're, you know...this, I read a recommendation of the 2008 direct-to-DVD release Trick' R Treat on Kindertrauma and thought I'd check it out. It's currently streaming on Netflix so give it an instant nosh while you can; it's a ghoulish, blackly comic, straightforward collection of overlapping stories that would be right at home in 1989. There are dashes of CGI, which subtracts one star, but the performances and running theme of sweet revenge balance things out. Plus, we all know it's not Halloween until a curly-haired teenaged dumbbell is vomiting blood onto the school principal's front steps.

Side note: A great opportunity to check out an adult Anna Paquin before she became "Always and Forever Sookie".

I'd like to take a moment to talk about my new girl crush, Alison Brie. If you are not familiar with her, you need to start watching Community on NBC right now.

Okay, now that we're familiar with the show, let me explain why she's awesome. Aside from the fact that she was in an episode of Hannah Montana (which gives her instant blog 'scuse me? cred), her twitter feed is a constant source of entertainment for me. I'm having one of those Rebel Girl things with her character Annie on Community. You know, it's like she has the hottest trike in town and I just want to be her best friend, yeah.

Speaking of twitter, did you know that Annie Edison's boobs have a twitter account? I really wish Annie's boobs would tweet more. I'm just saying...

Saturday, July 23, 2011

The New York Times ran an article on July 21st announcing the end of the "Got Milk for your PMS-ing Whore of a Girlfriend/Wife?" ads that drew the ire of sexism-sensitive types.

The ads perpetuate the assumption of our cock-controlled society that women are the only ones to experience hormonal upheaval that makes life hell for their significant others. Okay. Where are the ads with the haggard-looking career woman frowning over the caption, "I'm sorry I forgot to DVR the Jets game. You're right, I'm totally a stupid c-word. How 'bout an ice cold Miller?"

To ice the cake, these are effing "Got Milk?" ads. The ads that for 18 years have shown a variety of celebrities staring with bedroom eyes after their upper lips have been smeared with the fluid produced after cows are raped by machines. Health! Fun! Despite numerous contradictory reports urging women to focus on plant-based, animal-friendly, anti-carcinogenic treats rather than fat-pumped dairy products to mitigate the symptoms of PMS, Goodby, Silverstein, and Partners decided to launch this misogynistic series of ads. After the shut-down, Goodby made sure to state to the press that he thinks the campaign has "served its purpose" and that a similar ovary-hating campaign that his firm launched in 2005 was allowed to survive because "it was a different world in 2005". 'Tis true.

By now, everyone knows that MTV is bringing back Beavis and Butt-Head. Check out this sneak peek footage from this week's Comic Con. Nearly fourteen years have past since we've last seen these two and time has yet to age them or their humor.

I thought maybe the return of Beavis and Butt-Head would mean the return of some music videos to the channel that put the music in music television, but it seems like the new shows will just have them critiquing shitty reality shows instead of music videos. 'Tis a shame. I guess I'll be okay with it as long as they are ripping Snooki a new asshole.

Between Beavis and Butt-Head and 120 Minutes coming back with new shows, Nickelodeon rerunning classic shows from the 90's, and this new training bra, my awkward pre-teen era nightmares are haunting me.

When America looks back on vintage decades, its concentration is solely on the good: the soaring power ballads, the chic fashion, the Valium, the rotary phones, etc. But, as Henri Matisse said, "What I dream of is an art of balance..." Don't we need some bitching to pair with the nostalgia?

Let me begin to fulfill Matisse's dream by reviewing the 1973 John G. Avildsen film Save the Tiger. The movie screams "seventies era": We've got a teased-haired receptionist operating a soundboard and speaking in a nasal Staten Island-y accent, a moon-eyed hippie-era leftover informing Jack Lemmon's Harry Stoner that she just happens to have "some really great grass", a prostitute pouring what appears to be blood-colored candle wax on a john, and so on. It all adds up to nothing in a meandering drama that can't be saved by strong acting.

Stoner horrifies his wife by reminiscing about professional ballplayers of the '50s with a fervor skirting hysteria and tells the hippie hitchhiker that he's thirty-three when he could easily pass for sixty, and the audience stares blankly as his bizarre behavior is barely explained (is it all from stress over his failing business? Is he being tormented by prophetic nightmares about starring in The Odd Couple II?)

Ancillary characters mention Stoner's snappy gray suit roughly 19,874,284 times. Fine, the movie wants to remind you that fine threads cover a wreck of a human being, but why is he a wreck? Why is he suddenly tormented by WWII flashbacks rivaling Lifetime movies in terms of cheesiness? We're talking stuff a half-step above this:

The focal point of the movie is the decision of Stoner's and his colleague's to hire an arsonist to torch their warehouse and send insurance dollars their way. The movie ends before the action: no perfect-scheme-gone-wrong, no tense aftermath, nothing. The movie's final payoff is Stoner watching some obnoxious kids in a playground baseball game. Fine, not all dramas have to take the traditional route, but if one isn't going to, it still has to work to engage the audience. This movie consists of compliments on a silk suit, a guilt-ridden call girl who is never fleshed out, and a wife who keeps saying her husband should see Dr. Frankfurter. Grade: D

The last time we tried to do a blog-a-thon, It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown was on and fun size candy bars were $5.00 US a bag. Since the blog has been a little quiet lately and a heatwave has blanketed the northeastern region of the United States, we decided to set the A/C to tundra and sip some cocktails while we narcissistically rant about the really lame t-shirt that Beiber wore yesterday.

So sit back and relax, while we continue to stab pop culture in the neck right before your very eyes.

Netflix released their new plans starting September: charging everyone more for the same service. Netflix, you're starting to sound like a cable company.

Emmy Nominations for 2011 are out and everybody is talking about who got snubbed like The Daily Beast, Amy Poehler, and many more (I'm sure - I haven't looked into it).(photo via fujiidom)I know I don't have TV, but Matt LeBlanc has a show? Has anyone seen this "Episodes" they speak of?

Cocktail of the Week: White RussianI had this at Vegan Drinks in NYC right before Halloween. A wonderful blend of vodka, Kahlua, and soy or rice milk. Easy enough to make at home when you're watching The Big Lebowski or maybe The Big Lebowski 2. I find myself oddly attracted to Donny in the second one.